Page 30 of Riding the Line (Willow Ridge #2)
Cherry
‘You always were a natural in the saddle – I have no doubt you’ll jump up onto that horse tomorrow and be galloping off with ease. You’ve got this, Baby Hensley.’
Duke’s parting words from our phone call last night run through my mind as I watch Fliss lead one of the horses into the corral. I’m leaning against the fence, readying myself for this riding lesson – eight years of fear bubbling to the surface, which I confessed all about to Duke on the phone too.
I know it’s probably not healthy that I’ve been trusting him to help me get to sleep every night since last weekend – that I’m reliant on his soothing voice to keep my mind calm when soon I’ll be without him completely …
Except, the rational part of my brain that tells me to not get so attached just doesn’t seem as convincing anymore.
Because after the moment we had in the pool on Thursday, something tells me he wouldn’t be so opposed to that idea either.
I could practically hear the cracks in all the walls he’s been building between us.
They echoed along the dark water’s surface, inviting me to slip between them. To explore .
It’s safe to say I did not sleep much that night. Too many hot, wet thoughts swirling through my mind.
Watching Duke Bennett struggle to hold onto his self-control as I slipped my bikini straps over my shoulders and then see it almost shatter when I wrapped my legs around his solid waist – that gave me a heady sense of power I’ve never experienced before.
One I can’t help but want to chase again.
So, I’m going to take the last remnants of that power still faintly buzzing under my skin and ride this goddamn horse.
After taking a cleansing breath, I walk into the corral to join Fliss.
The size of the horse has my fists clenching, nails digging into my palms as my stomach roils.
I’m far taller than I was when I last rode a horse, yet the height of this filly makes me gulp.
Man, thirteen-year-old Cherry was goddamn brave.
Jumping up onto massive horses, galloping through fields, and trotting along winding dirt roads without a tremble of fear – I don’t know how she did it.
‘I know you rode for a few years when you were younger, but I think we should go right back to the basics,’ Fliss suggests.
She gives the beautiful filly whose reins she’s holding a gentle rub along the neck as she offers me a comforting smile.
She fishes a small mint from her pocket, feeding it to the horse.
‘Start with just some trotting on Moonshine. This is all about making you feel comfortable on a horse again, so we don’t need to rush it.
As far as I’m concerned, you’re in charge here.
We’ll take everything at whatever pace you want. Sound okay?’
‘That sounds great,’ I admit shakily, reaching out to join Fliss in stroking Moonshine along her neck.
I appreciate the approach Fliss is taking with this lesson – she knows what happened with my fall, but she’s not going to baby me.
She’s giving me the control. A strange rush of strength flares in my chest knowing that, my shoulders straightening out.
With a nicker, Moonshine leans into my touch, her dark eyes seeking me out and flooding my veins with calm.
Just feeling her soft coat under my palms, letting her mane run through my fingers, feels so right .
It reminds me of that same feeling on my first horse riding lesson.
Like I’d found my calling, that one place where the world quietened around me and just gave me a space to truly be me.
Funny how that same feeling springs up around Duke too.
It’s a little full circle when his words from last night pop into my mind again, bolstering me. He was the one who found me when I fell – a stroke of luck that he was riding his bike along that dirt road at the same time – and now his words are giving me the final push to get back up.
‘You wanna use the stool to help you up?’ Fliss asks, nodding to where it’s by the gate.
‘Nah, I’ll be fine without,’ I decide, determination widening my smile.
‘Sadly, not all of us are graced with super-model legs like you,’ she jests, likely because she’s barely pushing five foot two. She nudges me with her elbow. ‘You ready?’
I gulp down a final deep breath. ‘Hell yeah.’
Fliss hands the reins over to me, and I relish the roughness of the worn leather as it scrapes softly against my palms. My fingers clasp tight, and I give a quick nod to Moonshine – a little silent promise that I trust her and that she can trust me.
That we’re a team. Then I’m slotting my foot into the stirrup and grabbing the pommel, before pushing up and throwing my leg over the saddle.
And I’m sitting. Up on the horse.
I didn’t fall.
A laugh barrels out of me. Loud and free.
I freaking did it.
‘Fliss, oh my God! Look at me,’ I squeal.
‘Yes, girl!’ she cheers, grin widening by the second.
The instinct to squeeze my legs against Moonshine’s haunches comes through naturally, just the automatic next action my body knows to take, even after eight years out of the saddle. With my hands wrapped firmly around the reins, Moonshine huffs and takes off, breaking into a steady, slow trot.
A small wobble forces me to engage my core, and with a deep breath, I’m letting the waves of Moonshine’s movements flow through me.
Like we’re one. Like we were always meant to ride together.
I guide Moonshine in the direction I want her to go, everything coming back to me as memories of galloping freely along emerald tree-lined dirt roads spring up in my mind.
‘Well, I guess my job is done.’ Fliss laughs, beaming at me.
Because I did it.
I got back up.
But I only glance at her quickly as I need to stay focused, to really make this lesson count.
No being lazy now. No getting distracted.
Though, after a few laps of trotting around the corral, not becoming distracted becomes slightly difficult when I spot movement in the distance. Two people heading towards us.
I pull back on the reins to slow Moonshine down, allowing me to better see the two men walking over – one with the widest smile, competing against the sun’s brightness as he takes me in, while the other’s face is screwed up.
Fliss grabs the side of the reins when I bring Moonshine to a halt, just as Wyatt calls out, ‘What’s going on?’
He huffs out a breath as he and Duke reach the fence, immediately jumping up and leaning against it. Duke rests beside him silently, but the admiration in his eyes speaks to me louder than any words could. I didn’t realise he’d be at Sunset Ranch today, but he knew I’d be here…
I give Wyatt a shrug. ‘I’ve decided to start riding again.’
‘Since when?’
‘Since the rodeo.’ I make sure to catch Duke’s eyes, almost to add in, since you. He smiles, ducking his head shyly.
Wyatt chews on the inside of his lip, his stern eyes flicking about the scene before him.
Somehow, I think I might have rendered him speechless – like he can’t quite believe I’ve done this.
That I found some strength, and it has me lifting my chin higher, along with the way Duke’s watching me again, a smirk dancing on his lips.
‘I’m not sure I like this,’ Wyatt finally admits, folding his arms, brows still pulled together. ‘Doesn’t feel safe.’
Duke snorts beside him and says, ‘I don’t think that really matters right now, man. You’re a bit late – she’s already on the horse.’
Fliss and I giggle in response, and I widen my smile at Duke, that he’s willing to go against Wyatt, something up until the other night in the pool I was certain he’d never do. But clearly his resolve is weakening. What else might he go against Wyatt for now?
‘Doesn’t it worry you a bit?’ Wyatt turns to Duke.
‘You were the one who found her after her fall. Aren’t you …
’ Scared . He doesn’t have to say it, but I see it – in the way his muscles tense as he crosses his arms, the desperate shine to his eyes, the feathering of his jaw each time the horse shifts.
An ache settles in my heart, and I realise that learning to ride again, even if it worries my family, is just as much for them as it is for me.
If they can see me thriving, not cowering, maybe they’ll finally stop seeing me as a frail little girl.
‘I’ll be okay, Wyatt,’ I try to assure him, softening my determined expression.
It’s hard to talk about my fall, but still I push the words out.
‘I didn’t have any warning when I fell before.
But I know my triggers now, and I know when I can and can’t push myself.
I’ve been looking after myself fine for the last few years and haven’t had a seizure in ages.
Because I know me better than anyone else. And I know I can do this.’
Huffing, Wyatt’s mouth forms a stark line. But he doesn’t argue back.
‘Besides,’ I start, my grin playing out. ‘If you’re so worried about me falling again, you could always send Duke out with me when I ride. He was the one that saved me the first time after all. He’s always looking out for me like a brother, right?’
The last question is a tease that has Duke’s eyes widening and tattooed neck working as he swallows. Because it’s only a matter of time before I break him, and we’ll be riding past this line that I know he’s struggling to stay behind.